


giving me this feeling like

by insfiration



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst ish, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, lowkey verkwan, seventeen crew yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:08:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7588291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insfiration/pseuds/insfiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanahaki disease is a disease of the human system that causes people to cough up flowers due to severe one-sided love. In order to fully recover from the disease, one’s love must be fulfilled. The infection can also be removed through surgery, but this removes the person's ability to feel.</p><p>or, the universe is sadistic and loves fucking shit up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	giving me this feeling like

**Author's Note:**

> really not satisfied with this bc i've been writing this on/off for a year and i was going to write something happy but  
> enjoy my angst

Jisoo doesn’t want to be awake at four in the morning but him and coffee have never gone well together. Also, there’s a pain in his throat that won’t go away. He wonders if he’s getting a cold. That won’t go over well, especially with another show in a few days.

He coughs into his hands and feels something soft and wet hit his palms. He freezes, then slips his feet into his slippers, careful not to wake up his roommates as he shuffles over to the bathroom. He nudges the door shut behind him, fumbling in the dark for the switch.

The lights flicker on, harsh and unforgiving. He blinks rapidly, his eyes barely adjusting before he steels himself and forces himself to look at the object lying in his palm.

It’s a flower petal, white and edged with blood. But it’s still beautiful.

His body convulses, and he barely manages to make it to the toilet before a flurry of petals stream out of his mouth. He clutches the edge of the bowl, knuckles white, breath ragged.

Shitshitshitshitshitshit _shit_.

He’s officially fucked.

He’s in there ten, twenty minutes, just kneeling there and pushing the panic and nausea down. _There’ll be a way_ , he tells himself. _I’ll find a way._ He tries to believe himself.

Soonyoung’s voice disrupts his thoughts, thick and groggy with sleep. “Hyung?” he calls out. “Are you alright?”

Jisoo wants to say no, _no I’m not alright someone please help me_ , but he makes his voice light and nonchalant. “Yeah. Go back to sleep,” he says, holding his breath and praying that Soonyoung will listen for once. He’s being curious at the most inopportune of times.

He waits a minute before he's sure that Soonyoung isn’t about to come in. He slowly gets to his feet, leaning onto the wall to keep from collapsing. Quickly, before he can change his mind, he flushes all the evidence down the drain.

No one needs to know.

 

x.

 

It’s easier said than done. He gets up half an hour before he usually does and meticulously picks through the sheets, picking up every last flower petal that has fallen out during the night. When Chan asks why he smells like flowers, he laughs and blames the new cologne the makeup noonas are making him wear.

But the members are beginning to sense that something’s up, what with how frequently he excuses himself to the restroom and how he can barely keep up with the choreography but they figure he’s sick or anorexic or tired or something. They confront him, but with all the wrong accusations; in a way, he’s glad. He doesn’t mind Seungcheol sitting him down and giving him the _it’s alright to be worried about your weight but you’re perfect the way you are_ speech, even though normally he would have run away cringing in embarrassment because Seungcheol was being such a _dad_.

He’s getting really good at lying through his teeth, at telling them there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. He’s not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

 

x.

 

Maybe fate doesn’t mean for him to keep up the act for long because Soonyoung bursts into the bathroom one morning with a whine of “ _Hyung_ , you’ve been brushing your teeth for twenty minutes already! I still need to shower before we leave-” and stops suddenly when he sees Jisoo choking out the flower petals, which have been growing consistently larger, clogging up his throat.

Jisoo claps a hand over his mouth and moves to flush the toilet, but it’s already too late. Soonyoung’s rushed over and is staring wide-eyed into the bowl. “Hyung,” he says, and it’s muted, silenced by shock. _Why didn’t you tell me?_ he wants to ask. _Why are you going through this alone?_

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Jisoo says hoarsely, in an attempt to change the topic, to sound okay and strong and the _hyung_ Soonyoung expects him to be. “My mother and I used to plant these in our backyard. They’re called gardenias.” He hates gardenias. His favorite flowers have always been morning glories

And Soonyoung nods wordlessly before he realizes that Jisoo's successfully managed to get him off-track and he gears up to say something, something kind and encouraging and gentle.

Instead, what comes out is “you need to get help” and it sounds so judgmental, so condescending, harsh even to his own ears. And Jisoo is hurt - surprised, he tells himself - for a moment before he plasters a smile on his face. “I will,” he promises. It sounds fake. “Give me a week to get all this sorted out, okay? Don’t tell anyone. Please, Soonyoung-ah.”

Soonyoung stands there, mouth dry. _No_ , he wants to say, _I have to tell the manager. We can help you, hyung, why can’t you see? You can rely on us._ But somehow he finds himself nodding, something twisting unpleasantly in his stomach even as he does so. He can’t say no.

 

x.

 

It’s Seungkwan’s birthday and the managers turn a blind eye as they pull all the mattresses into one room and build blanket forts. They tell scary stories with hushed voices, flicking flashlights on and off under their faces until Seungkwan almost strangles Hansol with the frightened way he’s clutching onto him. Someone sneaks in alcohol but Seungcheol dumps it down the sink and replaces it with cider when nobody’s watching. They finally collapse an hour after midnight, sprawled out over mattresses and pillows and blankets. About half of them are on the ground by now, pushed off the side of the fort by the tossers and turners.

Soonyoung’s pressed up against the wall, someone’s elbow digging into his back, and he can’t fall asleep. When he hears movement to his right, looking up to see Jisoo leaving the room, a hand over his mouth, he frowns and follows him.

He steps carefully over the sleeping bodies and cracks the door open just wide enough for him to slip out into the hallway. Jisoo throws a glance back to make sure nobody’s awake. Sooyoung squeezes his eyes shut, feigning sleep. He listens as the door creaks shut, only opening his eyes when he can’t heard Jisoo’s footsteps in the hall anymore..

Taking a deep breath, Soonyoung shoves his blanket off of him and onto a sleeping Mingyu and pushes himself to his feet, a hand on the wall to steady himself as he tiptoes around the perimeter of the room, He edges his way to the door and hopes he doesn’t step on anyone.

He knows where to go, knows where Jisoo is even before he sees the light on in the bathroom, the door closed. And he pretends not to hear the sound of Jisoo retching, doesn’t imagine those pretty white petals clogging up Jisoo’s throat and coming up red with blood. He doesn’t think about the aroma of the flowers, tainted with the smell of iron and salt that makes him want to gag. He doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t.

He does.

He hates that his imagination can be so vivid because he swears he can hear Jisoo crying and oh shoot what if he’s dying in there alone and nobody knows because he didn’t tell? And Soonyoung tells himself it’s just his imagination running wild and nobody’s died of hanahaki in under a week after it began.

Even so he can’t stop himself from barging into the bathroom with the intention of confronting Jisoo, but when he finds him with his head in his hands and silent sobs shaking his shoulders, all thoughts fly from his mind.

“Hyung?” he says, kneeling by his side. He rubs Jisoo’s back in large, soothing circles. “Hyung, are you alright?”

And normally Soonyoung believes every word that comes out of Jisoo’s mouth, because how could such a perfect person like him be capable of lying? But when he sticks that reassuring smile back on his face and repeats the line he’s said so many times before - “I’m fine” - Soonyoung looks at his wan skin and red eyes and lips dark with blood and he says, “That’s bullshit.”

Because the flowers have grown so much larger than what they were only a few days ago and they’re stealing everything that makes up Jisoo. He’s folding up and fading away and Soonyoung is scared that soon there will be nothing left. “You’re not alright,” he says, voice catching. “Hyung, you’ve got to tell someone. The faster they can get you to surgery the better. This - this _thing_ , hyung, it’s killing you.”

And Jisoo’s crying again, tears running in rivulets down his cheeks. “But Soonyoung-ah, it’ll take away everything I am. It’ll make me into a _monster_.”

Soonyoung has nothing to say to that but still he whispers, “Please.”

Jisoo just smiles through it all and grabs his hand. “A week,” he says. “You promised.”

 

x.

 

Soonyoung tries to tell the manager, but he’s busy and waves him off distractedly. “You should be practicing your lines more,” he says, flipping through a pile of documents. “The show’s coming up and there’s still that one line that you tend to go flat on.” He makes a shooing motion with his hand.

Soonyoung tries to tell Seungcheol when they’re all watching a movie together after dinner, the first free time they’ve gotten all month. But Seungcheol brings a finger to his lips and points to a sleeping Jeonghan, whose head is in Seungcheol’s lap, and continues finger-combing the sleeping boy's hair.

Soonyoung tries to tell one of the stylist noonas as a last retort, but all she hears is Jisoo and flowers and she grins, leaning in conspiratorially. “I wish Jisoo-oppa would give me flowers too.”

 

x.

It turns out it doesn’t matter if he kept the secret or not, because Jisoo collapses in the middle of the rehearsal stage and Hansol trips on the sudden flood of flowers. Manager gets angry, but he acts calm in front of the worried hosts and spirits Jisoo away to the hospital.

The show will still go on, but with twelve instead of thirteen. Manager tells the audience Jisoo is sick with the flu and the fans coo and say _it’s alright, Jisoo should just rest_ even though it’s their money they’re wasting.

Seokmin takes Jisoo’s part, but it’s not the same.

 

x.

 

As soon as they get a break they take a bus to the nearby hospital and try to bully the nurse into letting all thirteen of them be in the same room at the same time. She stands firm and tells them that Jisoo needs his rest, and not to bother him too much. One at a time, she says sternly.

Soonyoung brings get-well flowers but he feels like it’s not appropriate for the occasion. He chucks them into the nearest trash bin before he enters and instead buys a box of chocolates.

The room is white and smells like antiseptics, like clean, like nothing. Jisoo is as beautiful as ever, glowing against the plain backdrop, and nobody would ever know anything was wrong if not for the pale, wan skin and the bags under his eyes. Normally, he would have never let the bags show, no matter how tired he was. Soonyoung bites his lip. “How are you, Soonyoung-ah?”

Soonyoung can hear it in his voice; he isn’t any better but he’s trying so hard to mask it. “I brought you some chocolates,” he says. “You should eat them while Manager’s being nice. When you get better, “ - _when, not if_ \- “they’ll crack down on your diet again.”

The laugh he hears from Jisoo lifts some of the pressure off his chest, and he can breathe a little again. “Thanks,” he says, ruffling Soonyoung’s hair. He opens the box and pops one into his mouth, chewing contentedly, before offering it to Soonyoung. “You want one? Tell Manager I blackmailed you into doing it.”

Soonyoung winces. “The makeup noonas will get mad at me. I’ll break out. How do you eat so much and still have nice skin, hyung?”

Jisoo just grins and eats another one. "That's a secret I'm taking to the grave with me."

The smiles fade off their faces and they sit in silence, pondering the possibility of that.

“Are you scared?” Soonyoung asks him abruptly, taking a seat on the white cot. The question’s been gnawing at him. “Of the surgery, I mean,” he clarifies. “Are you scared it’ll hurt?”

Jisoo’s smile fades. “No,” he says, but he doesn’t sound so sure.

 

x.

 

“Jisoo will be back with us soon,” Manager says. “The surgery’s being pushed up to this weekend, and he’ll be given a few days to rest before coming back. Even then he shouldn’t do any strenuous activities, so try not to let him overexert himself.”

“This weekend?” Seungkwan says, shocked. “I thought he was going to have the rest of the month to try and sort things out if possible.”

“Yes,” the manager says, and only now does Soonyoung realize how tired he looks. “But it appears that Jisoo’s disease is progressing faster than we had previously anticipated. His doctors feel like he’d be safest doing the surgery sooner rather than later.”

Soonyoung wants to see Jisoo work it out with the person he’s so hopelessly in love with - he doubts it’s unrequited love, because who couldn’t fall in love with someone like Jisoo? He doesn’t understand why it’s almost been a week and Jisoo hasn’t told that person yet.

 

x.

 

It’s early Sunday morning when the phone rings, the loud ringtone shattering the quiet stillness of the air. Seungcheol is the first one to get up and answer it, knocking his knee into the doorframe as he stumbles out of the bedroom, eyes bleary. “Hello?” he mumbles.

Half of them are awake now, and when Soonyoung sticks his head out the door to check if it’s anything important, he sees Seungcheol's face turn white as he hangs up.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, still groggy with sleep.

Seungcheol takes a breath. “Jisoo’s gone,” he whispers.

 

x.

 

Soonyoung finds out Jisoo’s not dead gone, like he had originally thought, but just gone from the hospital. They had found his bed empty right before they were coming to get him for the surgery, and had immediately phoned Manager, who had in turn called the dorm. And then they were all sprinting out the door, looking for him.

Soonyoung is scared that maybe Jisoo would rather die than live without his emotions.

 

x.

 

Soonyoung is running running running and the streets blur beside him and cars honk as he sprints across the road but the only thing in his mind is _Jisoo_.

 

x.

 

And he finds him in the alley by the company building, lying in a pool of flowers and flood. Soonyoung stops, his breath coming in heaves. “Hyung,” he says, and kneels down beside him. “Hyung?”

Jisoo stirs, eyes fluttering open. “Oh, hey,” he says, smiling weakly. “What’s up?”

Soonyoung doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. He crushes Jisoo to his chest in a tight hug, only letting go when Jisoo gasps and chokes up another petal.

They sit there for a bit, neither side brave enough to say anything, before Soonyoung can’t stand it anymore and says, “we were all so _worried_ , hyung.” His voice cracks. “We just want you to be safe. Why won’t you just go to the surgery?”

Jisoo runs his hand over the pavement, scraping his fingers over the sharp pebbles. He keeps his face carefully devoid of emotion, but Soonyoung doesn't miss the way he digs his finger into the stones, like he's trying to draw blood. “They’ll take the humanity away from me. I don’t know if it’s worth it, to live and not feel. I don’t know if I’d still be me.”

“Hyung-” Soonyoung begins, desperate to say anything that’ll change his mind, but Jisoo cuts him off with a hollow laugh.

“Please don’t tell anyone I’m here, okay? I don’t want to go back to the hospital.” He looks up at Soonyoung with those large, pleading eyes and that small smile playing on his lips.

And it breaks his heart when he forces himself to turn away and dig his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “but I can’t just leave you here.”

He calls for an ambulance and tells them the street they’re on and then he leans against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position next to Jisoo. “Who is it, hyung?”

Jisoo smiles a terrible, painful smile. “It doesn’t matter,” he says quietly.

“But I’m sure they like you, hyung! If you’d just talk to them maybe you could cure this without having to go through the surgery! Then everything would be alright, wouldn’t it?” Even now he's optimistic, and Jisoo doesn't know whether he should look down on or be jealous of that naivety. 

So he just smiles sadly at Soonyoung and then the sirens are coming down the street and the lights are flashing in his eyes and the paramedics are shouting to each other in loud voices as they lie Jisoo on a stretcher. He’s vomiting a flurry of petals and gasping for breath and out of instinct Soonyoung reaches for him.

Jisoo grasps his hand and pulls him down and breaths in his ear, “it’s Jeonghan,” and then they’re pulling him away and the doors slam shut and the ambulance screeches away down the street, sirens still wailing.

And then it’s just Soonyoung standing there alone on the sidewalk, a strange ache in his chest.

 

x.

 

They’ve been waiting at the hospital for hours, the twelve of them, sitting in the waiting room. Waiting is the most painful thing Soonyoung’s ever experienced, when they don’t know if he’s alive or dying or already dead, if the surgery’s been screwed up because they waited too long.

But that’s all they can do now. Wait.

Wait and hope that things will be fine. Pray that everything will go back to the way it used to be, back when everyone was happy and smiling and blissfully unaware that something like this could happen.

He sees Seungcheol and Jeonghan sitting in the corner, Jeonghan’s face buried in his hands. He sees the invisible wall between them, a wall of guilt and sorrow and “I should have seen this earlier”s. He sees how they’re pulled towards each other, two magnets, but forbidden to touch.

Soonyoung can’t stand it anymore and pushes his way out into the hallway, away from the atmosphere thick with apprehension and despair that he’s slowly drowning in. He sees a water fountain by the restrooms and takes a long drink, letting the cold water fill his mouth and clear his mind.

He chokes on a mouthful of too much water and barely manages to keep it down as he coughs violently, hands in front of his mouth.

And when the coughing fit subsides he looks down and sees a vivid purple flower lying on his outstretched palm.

It’s a beautiful purple flower, one he recognizes from one of Jisoo’s plant books he got in his gardening phase, ones he had wanted to plant on the flower box on the balcony to brighten up the dreary city but had never gotten around to.

He hadn’t realized morning glories were so beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> hahahA ;;


End file.
